


Melt

by LinksLipsSinkShips



Series: Food Porn [3]
Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Dom/sub Undertones, Even when they're only eighteen, First Time, Food Kink, Ice Cream, Link is a control freak, M/M, messy sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-31
Updated: 2019-03-31
Packaged: 2019-12-27 02:24:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18294947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LinksLipsSinkShips/pseuds/LinksLipsSinkShips
Summary: Link told Rhett not to order a dipped cone at Dairy Queen on one of the hottest days of the year after high school. Rhett never listens, though, and when it starts to drip all over Link's truck, he has a plan to make sure Rhett doesn't make that mistake again.





	Melt

**Author's Note:**

  * For [its_mike_kapufty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/its_mike_kapufty/gifts).



Link could be a real tyrant sometimes. Rhett knew that better than anybody, and he could have told you exactly when to expect the sigh and how heavy to expect it to be the second he ordered a dipped cone from the Dairy Queen on the edge of town. Link had told him not to get one, and that was precisely why he’d gotten it. If it weren’t to piss off Link, he could’ve just gotten a Blizzard or somethin’, but as soon as Link said “ _ please  _ don’t get a damned dip cone this time,” Rhett couldn’t resist ordering one. It was fun to poke Link’s buttons and provoke that sigh, that eye roll, that annoyed look on his face.

“Really, Rhett?” he asked as he pulled away.

“Really. Sounded good,” Rhett said. To add insult to injury, he added, “I was thinkin’ about a Blizzard but as soon as you mentioned a dipped cone, I couldn’t get it outta my head!”

“I said  _ not  _ to get a dip cone!” Link argued, exasperated with Rhett. He knew as well as Rhett did that Rhett was being contrary on purpose. That was how he was, and he didn’t try to hide that from Link.

Two bites in, and the ice cream was already starting to drip down the cone onto Rhett’s hand. “Gosh dang it, Rhett! That’s why I said not to get one! You’re gettin’ my truck all messy, what the crap?!” Link yelled.

“It’s fine!” Rhett said, holding up his clean hand in protest and moving the cone to that side, licking his fingers as the cone kept dripping.

“It’s  _ fiiiiine,”  _ Link mocked back to him in sing-song, rolling his eyes.

“Dude, chill out. I bought your ice cream. You’d think you could at least be grate—”

“You bought my ice cream. You remember  _ why  _ you bought my ice cream? Because I spent all my money on gas to haul  _ your  _ sorry ass around all summer long when Cole has the car! That’s why you offered to buy it, you… you freeloader! I swear on my mother’s life, if you get a single drop of vanilla ice cream on the seats of this truck—” Link started, right as a drip slid down Rhett’s wrist and landed  _ splat  _ on the seat between them. “You sonuvabitch,” Link grumbled, whipping the car down a gravel side road and pulling off, slamming on the brakes and throwing the car in park. Rhett  _ knew  _ it was serious if Link was using language like that. If he did, his daddy would’ve watched his mouth out with soap, so he and Link usually watched their damn mouths. Most of the time. Usually. “Get out.”

“You’re leavin’ me in the middle of nowhere?” Rhett asked. It wasn’t exactly the middle of nowhere. Give him three or four minutes and a walk down the road and he’d have reoriented himself just fine. It was a small town. Still, Link seemed to be leaving him on a side road with no warning, and that was just plain ridiculous.

“I said get the hell out of my truck, Rhett!” Link screeched, unbuckling his own seatbelt and reaching over to press the buckle on Rhett’s, too. “Out!”

“Jeez, Link, we can go get some Wet Naps, it’s not a big deal,” Rhett said.

“For that sticky mess? No. Get out.”

Rhett did as he was told, tugging the door open and taking another lick of his cone.

“I swear, your mother never taught you how to eat properly, or how not to get your … your  _ mess  _ all over everybody else’s stuff? I  _ told  _ you not to get that!” Link kept grumbling all the way to Rhett’s side of the truck, which blocked the view from the road that nobody was driving down anyway.

“Fine, you want me to eat it out here so I don’t get it on your truck?” Rhett asked. He didn’t know what Link wanted here, and if he would’ve known what a pain in the ass Link was gonna be, he never would have ordered the dipped cone in the first place. He was just tryin’ to poke his buttons, but somehow it seemed he’d gone too far.

“No,” Link said. “I want you to give me the cone.”

“You’re joking, right?”

Link gave him an expression that made it clear he was very much  _ not  _ joking about this. Rhett knew better than to protest, handing over the dripping cone, which no longer had any chocolate (he’d eaten it all off) and was pure plain, melting vanilla ice cream. Keeping eye contact with Link, he let out a heavy sigh, then painstakingly licked each of his fingers clean, running his tongue from his wrist to his fingertip once. “Better?” He half-expected Link to throw his ice cream cone onto the ground.

“If you can’t learn to eat properly,” Link said in the calmest voice Rhett had ever heard him use, one that sounded so angry he’d circled back around to calm a little too easily, and it sent chills down his spine, “then I’ll show you how.”

“What?” Rhett asked.

“I’ll feed you, since you can’t seem to do it yourself, you filthy animal.”

“How you gonna feed me, Link? You’re like a foot shorter than me. You probably couldn’t even reach my mouth if you tried,” Rhett taunted.

“Shut up! I’m only six inches shorter and you know it!” Rhett was still growing and was probably going to get taller, but for now, they weren’t  _ that  _ far off in height and Rhett knew it. He was just trying to push an already angry beast. Now that Link was this angry, it was tempting to see how much more he could provoke him. “You think I can’t feed it to you like this?” Link asked, narrowing his eyes. “Fine, we’ll deal with the height difference. Get on your knees.”

“You’re joking,” Rhett said.

“Knees.  _ Now,”  _ Link commanded, and Rhett swallowed heavily. This didn’t seem like a funny joke anymore. Now, he felt like he was walking head-first toward his own funeral, like Link was about to behead him with the damn cone. For some reason, it was really, really exciting to him, as terrifying as it was for Link to act like this.

Rhett did as Link commanded him to, getting down on his knees and looking up at him. Ice cream ran down Link’s hand the same way it had Rhett’s, but he didn’t seem to mind. “Open your freakin’ mouth,” Link ordered, and Rhett let his jaw go slack, his mouth opening wide. This was absolutely ridiculous, near-comical, and he wondered what would happen if anyone happened to drive by, what they’d think of what they were doing. But this road wasn’t well-traveled and to be honest, they could go hours without seeing a soul where they were. Link knew that, and it was probably why he’d chosen to pull over here.

“You like this damn dip cone so much,” Link said, shoving it into Rhett’s mouth, “you can eat it right here and make a mess of yourself  _ outside  _ of my truck.” It almost seemed like he purposefully aimed badly, smearing the ice cream on the sides of Rhett’s face, getting it all over the sparse facial hair Rhett had been trying (and failing) to grow. The cool cream dripped down his chin and onto his cutoff jean shorts, and Link took note. “Take your shirt off, you slob,” he said, and Rhett did, getting ice cream all over it in the process as he tossed it onto the grass beside him. His knees stung from the feeling of grass and loose gravel beneath him, but he didn’t complain or move. In a way, he’d brought it on himself, and seeing Link like this was … well, he couldn’t exactly describe it.

“I can’t believe you’d make a mess of my truck like that! You’re so … so frickin’ careless sometimes,” Link whined, smearing the ice cream more, managing to get a large amount of it in Rhett’s mouth. It was enough to give him a brain freeze.

“I’m sorry,” Rhett finally managed as he swallowed the thick ice cream and looking up at Link, blinking in apology with his eyes watering from the brain freeze.

“Yeah, sure you’re frickin’ sorry,” Link sighed, rolling his eyes again. “Open wider. You gotta eat the cone, too.” It was all that was left of the ice cream cone Rhett had ordered. Link’s Reese’s Blizzard was surely half-melted in the truck but he didn’t think Link even remembered that at this point. He seemed too focused on pretty much torturing Rhett with his own ice cream.

Rhett did what Link said, opening his mouth so wide he worried his jaw might pop or get stuck there, and Link shoved the whole cone in into his mouth in one forceful push. Rhett tried not to choke, chomping down on it, thankful for the short, squatty cones the local DQ had and the way the ice cream had softened it, causing it to crumple more than going straight back. As Rhett chewed, he wondered how far Link was going to take this. The ice cream was gone, but Link hadn’t broken eye contact. He was clearly still annoyed and still not done. For a moment, Rhett wondered if Link was gonna haul off and hit him, if they’d end up in a weird wrestling match on the side of the road. Rhett almost hoped so. If they did, he could pull his “I’m dead,” move and Link would have to get over his attitude.

“You done?” Rhett asked, trying to get a reaction after he was done chewing. “Or do you need me to clean that up, too?” he asked, nodding at Link’s fingers. The way he looked up at Link with a small glare was meant to say everything it needed to: fuck with me, and I’ll fuck right back. Rhett didn’t expect for Link to actually call his bluff. He expected for Link to tell him to stand up, open the door, and get the wet wipes Link always kept stuffed in the passenger door pocket.

“Yes,” Link answered instead, and Rhett didn’t know what to say.

“Excuse me?” Rhett asked.

“I said,  _ yes  _ I want you to clean up my hands,” Link said, extending his hand toward Rhett. Rhett’s shirt was right there in the grass beside him. He could pick it up, wipe off Link’s hand with it, and they could get back on the road. But Link had insisted on being a jackass and Rhett wasn’t the kind of guy to give in easily when he was that pissed off at his best friend. Or, not pissed off but … but he didn’t know what. Something. He was feeling  _ something  _ he couldn’t describe.

Without much warning, and without waiting to see if Link would stop him, Rhett reached out, snatching Link’s wrist and pulling it toward him, licking from mid-forearm to his wrist bones. “Better?”

For a moment, Link didn’t answer. He was too shocked and stunned, and his face said as much, mouth agape, eyes wide. After a long, slow, shaky breath, he shook his head. “No,” he answered. “It’s still all over me, dumbass.”

“Fine,” Rhett said, grasping Link’s wrist still and dragging his tongue along the palm of Link’s hand slowly.

“You missed, um … you missed some,” Link said, taking three of his fingers and shoving them deep into Rhett’s mouth. Rhett gagged a little, then pulled back, taking his time to suck on Link’s fingers, licking them clean by working his lips and tongue in rhythm. As he bobbed back forward to catch a spot he thought he missed, it hit him what this looked like. It must have hit Link, too, because he let out a small whimper. “You can, uh, stop. If you want to, I mean,” Link managed.

Rhett pulled Link’s fingers from his mouth but kept Link’s wrist in his hand. “What if I don’t want to?” Rhett asked him, gazing up at him. By now, he’d almost forgotten the pain of the gravel in his knees. It still hurt, but it was reduced to a dull ache in the back of his mind now that his main focus was on whatever was happening. The noises from Link’s lips made this far more interesting than the pain he felt.

“I don’t know,” Link finally said.

For a moment, neither of them moved or said a word. They stayed like they were, Rhett on his knees in front of Link, Link’s wrist in his grip, and Link, looking down at Rhett, unwavering blue eyes locked on him. Link licked his lips, and Rhett felt compelled to do the same. Ice cream dripped down his chin, still not cleaned up from the mess Link had made of him.

“Do you  _ want  _ me to stop?” Rhett finally said. His voice cracked as he said it, and he wasn’t sure if it was some weird delayed puberty response or nerves or … or something.

“No,” Link said. His voice was barely above a whisper, so soft that a strong breeze would have overpowered him, but there wasn’t a breeze that day. It was just sticky and hot.

“Okay,” Rhett said, nodding slowly and looking at Link’s fingers, drawing Link’s ring finger to his lips. His eyes stayed on Link’s face the entire time he slowly dragged his tongue along the length of it, then took it into his mouth deeply, pulling off of it with a gentle  _ pop _ . He repeated it on the ring finger. Eye-level with Link’s crotch, he looked away from Link’s face to notice the unintended—or at this point, perhaps very intended—effect he was having. Link’s hand was spotless, and Rhett wasn’t sure what to do from here. He wanted to keep sucking on Link’s fingers, to keep getting the soft whimpers from his best friend’s lips, so he did, taking Link’s thumb into his mouth and grazing his teeth gently along the pad of it as he licked and sucked on it. When he pulled back, he bit his lip, but he didn’t let go of Link’s hand.

“I … we, um … we should g-go,” Link finally said. He was struggling to breathe and Rhett could tell in the heavy way his chest rose and fell. It was like he’d run a marathon instead of just stood behind his truck.

“Yeah,” Rhett said, standing up. Bits of gravel stuck in his knees and he started to brush it away, but neither of them moved toward the truck doors. It was Link who moved first, reaching forward and grasping at the sides of Rhett’s ice-cream-covered face, pulling him close and kissing him hard, turning them to press Rhett against the door of the truck. It started with just their chapped lips pressed together, and Rhett didn’t know which one of them deepened it, sliding a tongue in, but soon Link was kissing at the sides of Rhett’s face, licking at the ice cream there before making his way back to Rhett’s lips, then back to the ice cream again. Rhett’s hands felt the back of Link’s almost-shaven head, rubbing against the short hair there and keeping Link close to him. With one clean—albeit slightly sticky—hand, Rhett found his way under Link’s shirt, running his palm along Link’s thighs. As his hand made its way around to Link’s back, pulling him closer, Rhett used one of his legs to nudge between Link’s thighs, to pull Link against him, let Link feel the pressure against his hard cock.

Link practically yelped at the contact, then sighed into it and leaned his forehead on Rhett’s bare shoulder. “Gosh,” he said quietly.

“Gosh,” Rhett repeated to him, sliding his hand down the small of Link’s back, wriggling it into his shorts and giving Link’s ass a small squeeze. Link ground forward against him, eyes fluttering shut, then opening pleadingly. He didn’t say a word—didn’t need to, really—as Rhett sank to his knees again, unbuttoning the front of Link’s shorts and pulling them down just enough. This time he was fully on gravel, and as he pushed Link against the car, he wondered how long he could stay there before it would be too much.

For the time being, though, he focused on leaning forward, taking Link in his mouth the same way he’d done with his fingers. This time, there wasn’t ice cream to give him an excuse, and this time, they didn’t talk about Rhett continuing. He just  _ did,  _ and as Link’s hand found its way to the back of Rhett’s head, he was sure he was getting the yes he figured he’d get. Looking up at Link as he took him deeper, almost choked on him, he could see Link lean his head back against the truck. “Oh gosh, Rhett,” he said, and Rhett could hear his accent get even thicker than usual, his voice deep and raspy with the effort of talking through the moan he was trying to stifle.

Rhett took his time, slowly running his tongue along Link’s length and using his hand where his mouth couldn’t reach. Link was  _ long.  _ He’d made indirect eye contact more than a few times, but Link was a lot bigger than he’d realized. “My, uh … my knees are starting to hurt,” Rhett said.

“Oh. Well, we can stop if you want,” Link suggested, giving a small, disappointed shrug. Rhett didn’t want to stop. He wanted to keep sucking Link’s cock like that, to keep taking his time kissing down the length of it a little.

“No,” Rhett said. “We just, uh … maybe in the grass?” Rhett suggested.

“Truck bed?” Link countered. That seemed like a better suggestion. In the truck bed, nobody could catch them. Rhett nodded and scrambled to his feet, putting his hands on the side of the truck bed and heaving himself over into the bed with a grunt. As he made a thud on the metal surface, he felt the truck rock as Link followed him, holding his shorts up with one hand.

Link moved, getting into a position on his back. “Shiiiiiit, that’s hot,” Link whimpered wincing at the heat of the metal truck bed on his back. Rhett stood up a little, reaching into the back of the truck bed for the towels they kept stashed behind the seats for impromptu trips to the river.

“Here,” he said, tossing them down and letting Link reposition himself onto them. He realized then that at any point, Link could have remembered those towels and made Rhett use one to clean himself up and stop the ice cream drips, prevented all of this. He tried to push the thought out of his head. That didn’t matter now because now they were doing  _ this _ . At this angle, propped on his elbows, body nestled between Link’s legs and his own legs curled to one side of himself, he could get deeper, take more of Link than he had. He liked that, and as he did, he tried to get the whole thing. That proved almost impossible, but not for lack of trying. Where his mouth couldn’t reach, his hand did, and he worked them in conjunction to elicit soft moans and whimpers from Link’s mouth.

“That feels real nice, Rhett,” Link said, and Rhett could almost picture his eyes closing. From here, he couldn’t really see, but Link’s grip tightened on his shoulder. As Rhett stroked him with one hand, he slowly kissed his way down Link’s cock, sucking on his balls and running his tongue back up the length again.

“Is it too forward to say I wish you could, y’know,” Rhett said, dropping all contact for half a second and making a circle with one hand, poking a finger through the circle with the other, “like … uh, that you could do that to me?” He’d been raised to wait for marriage but he’d been with Link his whole damn life. That seemed about as close to marriage as he was gonna get when he was this young and horny, hard cock pressing against the truck bed.

“It’s not too forward but we don’t got anything,” Link said, sighing as he laid his head back down on his arm.

“Yeah, I know,” Rhett sighed, going back to what he was doing, slurping at Link’s cock faster now. If he wasn’t careful, he was going to cum just from the way Link sounded.

“Hey, uh, Rhett? You might want to … you might want …” he couldn’t seem to get the words out, but Rhett figured out what he was saying soon enough when warmth filled his mouth as Link spilled into it. He didn’t really have anything else to do with it, so he swallowed, catching as much as he could as some trickled down the side of Link’s cock. “Holy crap,” Link said, letting out a heavy sigh. He sucked in breath so hard that Rhett could’ve counted his ribs right then, and Rhett laid down in the truck bed beside him, kissing him. “You want me to, uh, do you now?” Link asked him.

Rhett did, his cock twitching at the suggestion because that sounded amazing, but he still hadn’t gotten his other idea out of his head.

“How ‘bout we go get the other stuff?”

“Here?”

“Bet if we go the next town over, nobody’ll recognize us. We can act like we’re gettin’ it so we can hook up with a chick or somethin’,” Rhett suggested.

“Okay,” Link nodded, tugging his shorts back up and folding up the towels to stick behind the seat again. “I think there’s a Dairy Queen on the way.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to its-mike-kapufty for requesting this!


End file.
